Language Barriers
by Shila
Summary: A young man comes to the Institute in hopes of learning more about his powers - but he doesn't speak English. The lucky Gambit is assigned to teach it to him - but in the process the two find friendship - and perhaps more... (slash pending, higher rating
1. Welcome to Xavier's Institute for Gifted...

Summary: A young man comes to the Institute in hopes of learning more about his powers - but he doesn't speak English. The lucky Gambit is assigned to teach it to him - but in the process the two find friendship - and perhaps more...  
  
Author notes, etc.: This chapter is pre-slash. It may develop more later. Mostly, I'll be concentrating on character building for the first few chapters. I have no idea for any sort of plot other than a romance, but I'm good at making those interesting, so it shouldn't be too crappy. I need a Beta reader! (especially one who will prod me into writing more. This muse has bitten me twice now though so perhaps this fic might go somwhere. Adrienne is all mine. Mine, mine, mine, and based off of another character of mine.  
  
IF you don't like slash and will flame me if you read it, well, by all means, go ahead. Flames are funny as all hells and I could use the laugh. Rated for potential language, hopefully I'll have cause to up it later.  
  
Language Barriers  
  
The young man stepped into the front hall of the mansion, intense violet eyes darting nervously around in an attempt to gauge the place. His obscenely long lavender hair twirled around itself, resembling a pair of anxious hands twisting their fingers together in its movements. He patted the prehensile stuff and took another step or two deeper into the unknown.  
  
"Can I help you?" inquired a softly solicitous voice.  
  
The boy jumped a literal foot in the air, turning to face Jean Grey - although he had no idea who she was - in utter confusion. "Euh... excusez- moi, je ne parle pas d'anglais... mais..." He trailed off at the half- amused, half-bemused look on her face. "I can't understand a word you're saying either, so perhaps we'd better find someone to translate..." she said, more to herself than to the boy who didn't look any more than sixteen.  
  
Remy could you help me out in the entrance hall? We've got a visitor who appears to know French, but not English. I need a translator... she sent to the X-Men's resident Cajun. She got a slightly fuzzy sense of acknowledgement and a hint of 'coming', so she turned to the boy and smiled, trying to get him to relax.  
  
In the meantime, Adrienne - for that was the boy's name - had been looking at Jean, and the hall, and trying to calm down a bit. J'ai pense' c'etait d'etre plus dur fait ce... His hair relaxed somewhat as his agitation died down at the friendly demeanor of the woman he'd run into and stopped trying to tie itself in knots. He'd seen the quick flash of jealously - nearly every woman he ran into drooled over his amazingly long and thick hair (until they found out it was alive, of course) - and Jean Grey was not immune. She'd recovered quickly, though. His sister had constantly bemoaned that such beautiful hair had gone to a boy, even if his famille was slightly frightened by its unnatural color. It had only grown worse as he reached puberty and it started responding physically to his emotions and seeming alive. That was when he'd run away, some three or four years ago. The streets of Paris weren't kind to a pretty young boy but his hair had kept him out of many situation that most people would have succumbed to - yet its existence was the cause of most of them, so he wasn't too sure of its being a gift or a curse. Most likely both, as his dear sister Anna had always believed. His double-edged mop, she'd called it, and it set them to giggles many times as children.  
  
His thoughts were pulled back to where he was now when Remy LeBeau walked into the room, grinning easily at first Jean, then Adrienne. "Bonjour, monsieur," he said, with a Cajun accent and N'awlins inflection. Adrienne smiled delightedly upon hearing something he could understand, even if its pronunciation had been Louisianaized. "Oh merci Dieu, tu me comprends...J'ai viens ici parce que je ne suis pas normalement, tu peux vois ca, et j'ai entendu c'ecole eu quoi j'ai eu besoin de..." And the boy went off on a spiel of rapid French that had Jean's head spinning and Remy's ears being extremely confused. "Whoa, cher, calm down. Dis Cajun, he don' know de mere francais dat fast." Adrienne stopped, looking a bit hurt. "You jus' come wit' Remy and you be speakin' de good ol' anglais by de end of de week. Get ya in a coupla' classes, ye be fittin' right in."  
  
Adrienne nodded slighty, not quite understanding, but trusting the red head with the eyes like puddles of blood - dried and black on the edges and red and flowing in the center - and the pretty woman with the nice smile and rather liking this whole place. He started to think that perhaps coming here hadn't been such a bad idea as he'd been afriad of. His hair was mostly still now, having relaxed much more. He was smiling slightly when Gambit took his upper arm and steered him down a hallway, rambling on about 'le Proffeseur' who would certainly welcome him into the Institute. It had turned out pretty good, at least for now...  
  
~in Professor Xavier's office~  
  
Chrome Dome Charles was very interested in Adrienne's mutation and was not at all opposed to enrolling him in the school. With a soon-confused Remy as translator, all the papers were filled out and schedules arranged for starting in several weeks - after he got a basic understanding of the English language. Adrienne was trying to control his rapid speech so that the handsome ou est CA pensiette viens de?!? Cajun could understand him - mostly. It was arranged that most of his teaching would be taken care of by Remy, who would show him around a bit. Remy told Xavier that he wasn't a babysitter, but his vote was quickly vetoed with a quirked brow by the Prof. The Cajun sighed and muttered mutinously under his breath.  
  
Adrienne saw this, and knowing when he wasn't wanted, spoke. "Je ne veux pas etre un problem, Monsieur LeBeau. Je peux trouve ma chambre est mes classes et les fois comme ca seulement. Je regrette."  
  
Remy looked up at the boy, who had his face hidden amongst all his hair that was now hanging limp like a kicked puppy and sighed. "Non, tu viens avec moi. C'est pas un problem."  
  
"Vraiment?" The boy's purple eyes glowed with fledgling hope under his now- twitching bangs.  
  
"Oui." Remy grinned back at the smile that lit the boy's face like the sun breaking through a cloud. He was a sweet looking kid when he wasn't depressed. Hol' on jus' a secon' dere, Cajun. What in de Nine Hells you be t'inkin'? What 'bout Rogue?  
  
A tiny voice from the back of his mind piped up. ~She drained you an' lef' you ta die... do you haf'ta be tol' twice?~  
  
He sighed softly to himself, then realized the boy was still smiling at him. "Come on den, 'Drienne... hey dat rhymed!" Adrienne nodded uncertainly, not quite sure of the meaning of the man's words, but willing to learn. Remy LeBeau... he though to himself. Oui, c'est vrai. Il est beau.  
  
The Professor smiled slightly as he watched them wander from his office. They'd be good friends for each other. God knew Remy needed someone unprejudiced about him (and wasn't it convenient that the boy wouldn't be able to understand any bad talk about him until he formed his own opinion of the man) and the boy - Adrienne, wasn't it? - certainly had needed someone to help him get onto his feet here. Not to mention the sheer possibilities with the child's ankle-length hair.  
  
He nodded to himself. Doing good felt good, even if the recipients would smack you if they knew your motives for your actions. He grinned to himself. Yes, they'd be good for each other...  
  
"I have work to do... enough of solving personal problems for now." And with that he turned back to the papers he'd been grading when the two had entered his office, a faint remnant of his smile still etched on his face.  
  
end chap 1  
  
(translations of the french)  
  
Euh... excusez-moi, je ne parle pas d'anglais... mais... Uh... excuse me, I don't speak English... but...  
  
J'ai pense' c'etait d'etre plus dur fait ce... I thought it would have been harder than this...  
  
Bonjour, monsieur Good day, sir  
  
Oh merci Dieu, tu me comprends...J'ai viens ici parce que je ne suis pas normalement, tu peux vois ca, et j'ai entendu c'ecole eu quoi j'ai eu besoin de... Oh thank God, you understand me... I came here because I'm not normal, you can see that, and I heard this school had what I needed...  
  
Ou est CA pensiette viens de?!? Where did THAT thought come from?  
  
Je ne veux pas etre un problem, Monsieur LeBeau. Je peux trouve ma chambre est mes classes et les fois comme ca seulement. Je regrette. I don't want to be a problem, Mr. LeBeau. I can find my room and classes and things like that alone. I'm sorry.  
  
Non, tu viens avec moi. C'est pas un problem. No, you come with me. It's not a problem.  
  
Vraiment? Truly?/Really?  
  
Oui. Yes.  
  
Oui, c'est vrai. Il est beau. Yes, it's true. He is beautiful.  
  
the real end! 


	2. Sleeping Beauties

As a response to my reader's reviews and requests, from now on anything spoken in French will be in one quotation mark 'so if adrienne talks it's still french' because it's confusing and i'm too lazy to remember that much of my french. english will have "two quotes" and remy's screwed up half an' half will be "with a few french words tossed in" so that better? good. THANK YOU for reviewing! review this chapter too! it's nice to see what people think of my work.  
  
and gambit's accent will not be applied in the french, because he is speaking de french and not de english so the accent that affects his english wouldn't affect it! yeah.  
  
Marbie Rouges - a slang for Marlboro Reds. Rouge is French for red. ( pronounced rooj ) coined term.  
  
oh btw , codes! telepathy ~inner thoughts~  
  
oh, and for the sake of continuity, first chapter starts at sundown.  
  
Language Barriers: Sleeping Beauties  
  
That night, after having shown the boy where his room was, a slightly pissed off Remy LeBeau made his way back to his own room - a disturbingly short journey. Three doors down. He pushed his door open but didn't slam it. He wasn't that angry. It was just an inconvenience, and a tempting one at that. Remy'd never lied to himself about his sexuality. He chose his relationships and bedpartners based on personality or looks, not gender. Yes, he was a vain, self-righteous egotistical jerk - but only on the outside. He was still cold from the frozen wasteland and that was NOT a train of thought he wanted to catch, as it led straight back to his own personal hell. But there was something about the boy, aside from that fact that he was damn hot, anyway. (Not to mention the possibilities of his hair...) He looked and acted so goddamned innocent. Like the world had never really hurt him.  
  
What Remy didn't know was that the boy was as good a masquerader as he was, and that his Mask had been perfected through years of hard work.  
  
The Cajun stopped worrying about all the shit that was wrong in his life and went to bed, stripping out of his clothes and curling into his fluffy down pillows and flannel sheets, trying to get some sleep.  
  
~three doors down~  
  
Adrienne unpacked slowly and methodically, knowing that his room would be a horrid mess in two days or less, but trying to keep it neat while it still stood a chance. He sang softly to himself as he worked, a song he'd heard on the radio on his last day in Paris. 'Don't you cry, or suffer over me... I will be waiting for you...  
  
Don't you cry, angels never fade away.... I'll be watching over you.'  
  
It meant nothing, really, just a catchy tune by one of his better liked bands. He had an album of theirs somewhere; unfortunately most of the songs were in English, so he didn't understand the lyrics and had only gotten the opportunity to play it once. The boy didn't have much and how he'd gotten the CD in the first place was a complete and utter mystery. Most likely he'd found in lying in the street. All of his things had fit into one backpack and his extremely tattered black trenchcoat into which he had sewn dozen of extra pockets. (Living on the street gave one odd skills. He could pick pockets passably, at least off of oblivious tourists, but he could run really fast too. He could also sew - not too well, but pockets are simple enough. He was extremely athletic and in good shape, though he was too skinny for his own good. All in all the boy had the usual mishmash of skill that are acquired from living on the streets of a big city.)  
  
He finished putting his meager supply of clothing into the far-too-large dresser and pulled off his trench, slinging it over the back of the chair. The room was simple, but more than anything he'd called his own since he ran away - a twin bed with nice fluffy sheets and soft pillows, the floor carpeted in a light blue. A wooden desk stood along one wall with a folding chair in front of it. A door led to a small bathroom - a sink, a toilet and a small square shower. A small alarm clock/radio sat on the edge of the desk. The dresser in the main room took up a whole wall across from the bed and had a large mirror on its back, against the wall. He leaned down and pulled off his old, beat up combat boots, leaving them to lean against the desk. He locked the door and stripped his clothes off, walking into the bathroom for a quick shower. 'Many years of filth will either make you love it, or hate it. I, for one, am firmly on the latter side,' he mumbled as his hair washed itself happily with the shampoo he'd found in the cabinet under the sink.  
  
Finally clean for the first time in a long time, he made his way back to the main room, toweling off his body and his hair. He smiled happily and flopped onto the bed, and was asleep in moments.  
  
~the next morning~  
  
Remy shot up in his bed at way-too-godsdamned-early-A.M. He'd had a particularly vivid dream, one involving a pretty face and lots of hair. He didn't want to remember it. He headed for the shower, blasting himself with the ice-cold water in an attempt to banish his case of morning wood. It, however, seemed more resilient than normal due to his dream. After a good ten minutes it subsided, leaving a tooth-chattering Cajun who quickly turned the water on to hot and scrubbed himself down.  
  
He exited the shower with a great yawn. ~I need coffee... and a smoke...~ He dressed himself quickly, in tight black jeans and a dark red shirt, tugging his brown duster over it all and patting a pocket of it to make certain his Marbie Rouges were in their place. He headed down to kitchen with a quick glance at his bedside clock. 7:26. What an ungodly hour.  
  
He headed down the hall, passing the boy's room and stopping short as he heard music coming from it. Surely the kid wasn't awake... He knocked softly, aware that his stomach was growling and he was sure the kid's was too.  
  
The door was opened a moment later, showing a smiling Adrienne. 'Good morning, Mr. LeBeau.'  
  
'Just call me Remy.'  
  
Adrienne nodded, slightly confused. He'd turned the little clock radio on when he got up, bored and wanting something to do. Now it was blaringly loud in the silence, and he walked over and shut it off. He turned back to Remy.  
  
'You hungry at all, Adrienne?'  
  
The boy blinked, a bit thrown off at the offer of food, but recovered quickly and nodded, smiling. 'That would be nice.'  
  
Gambit nodded. 'Alright then. Kitchen's this way.' He waited for the boy to jerk on his boots and swing his coat over his shoulders, then set off down the hall with Adrienne a half-step behind him.  
  
Food called.  
  
end chap 2  
  
the end is so abrupt because - well, food calls, and i'm hungry. next chap out maybe today or tomorrow. this will end up being many chapters long if i ever actually work on it, considering just how little i put into a chap. but anyway, i'm trying to make the chapters longer. just be happy i'm actually working on this and doing moire than one chap and forgetting aboput it. this might go somwhere. anyway i'm gonne upload it now, please review! 


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